


between rays of light

by fractalbright



Series: a trick of the light [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Growing Up, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2041068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalbright/pseuds/fractalbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you unmake a monster? By loving it, of course.</p><p>Or, the one where Erwin gets a little too attached to the monster living under his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	between rays of light

**Author's Note:**

> YO HOLY SHIT IT'S BEEN A WHILE.
> 
> first off, massive, massive thanks to my mains jade and mandeep who have both been listening to me whine about this thing for literal months wow wooooooow.
> 
> second, this thing needs editing like whoa, but i was really excited to get it posted so here we are.
> 
> update: it's been edited. mostly. ENJOY!

When Erwin's mother sends him to bed long before he’s tired (because  _rules are rules, baby—no, I don’t care how many extra minutes dad gave you; it’s bedtime,_ ) he likes to create shadow puppets on the wall with his fingers and nightlight.

Sometimes, when he's feeling particularly creative, Erwin climbs out of bed when he's sure he can no longer hear his mother’s footsteps on the landing and build worlds up from scratch. He forges kingdoms and castles out of piles of books and carefully folded socks, creates an army out of Styrofoam balls and Popsicle sticks and leads them to victory without fail. Together, they fight monsters—dragons and demons and wrathful gods from the stories his father tells him every night.

One night, when a shadow twitches unprovoked, moving on its own without Erwin fiddling with the lamp, he watches in shock as it spirals to life, seeping out out from under his bed and up the wall, where it curls into his dragon and brings it to life. Erwin watches wide eyed as it breathes flames of smoke and burns his castle to the ground. His army starts moving, too, running away from their duty while civilians Erwin had no way of creating come running out of the castle in a flurry of chaos.

His castle crumbles, his people die, and all Erwin can do is watch in horror as the devastation continues.

“Hey—” Erwin whispers, a little bit terrified of the thing on his wall, but also a little bit _more_ terrified of the look on his mother's face if she finds up passed bedtime. “You’re ruining my castle.” He says.

The shadows stop twisting and the scene freezes in place; his castle stops collapsing and Erwin can see the tiny silhouette of a man jumping out a window freeze midair, limbs flailing about. They pull away from the wall, swirling up and around, so dark Erwin can barely focus on its image. Erwin holds his breath, tries not to scream in sheer terror, even as he reaches a hand out to touch, curiosity driving the movement. The shade curls, settling into something almost humanoid—boyish with bright, bright eyes.

“Please don’t ruin my castle,” Erwin says politely, just like his parents taught him. The thing tilts its head; eerie silver eyes stare back at him even though the rest of its features are wiped clean.

“Why should I listen to you? You’re just a kid.” A voice rasps out, a sliver of the shadow opening up to expose sharp, white teeth. Erwin tries to ignore the goosebumps erupting on his flesh.

He folds his arms over his chest with a pout instead. “I’m not a kid, I’m four and three quarters. And there are people in that castle! You’ll hurt them if you destroy it.”

The thing makes a noise almost like a snort, shadows rippling like laughter. Erwin smiles shyly despite himself. “Most people that live in castles aren’t usually nice, you know.” It says.

“That doesn’t mean they should die! Dad says armies protect people and there are people in that castle. Besides, there are lots of people outside the castle that’ll die if you break it, too. So there.” Erwin argues, folding his arms over his chest.

The thing is silent, watching Erwin with empty, empty eyes flickering brightly in the dim light. “What if  _I_  hurt you?” It says, shadows shifting a touch faster, looming, nothing like before.

Erwin considers that. “You could join me instead.”

The thing jerks sharply, nearly flickers out and disappears before settling again. “What?”

“Well, if you can break castles, you can probably fight dragons really well, too, right? And you’re just sitting here talking to me instead of hurting me, so you probably don’t _want_ to hurt me because you would have  _done_ that already if you actually wanted to.” Erwin reasons. He really hopes it wants to stay.

The thing doesn’t say anything, just hovers as shadows billow away from it, swirling like smoke in the dark.

“What’s your name, anyway?” Erwin asks when the thing doesn't reply. He doesn’t really expect an answer, but he doesn’t want to call it… it. 

“Levi. My name is Levi.” It rasps out.

Erwin grins, stretching his hand out to shake, then thinks better of it. He spreads his fingers instead, flexing the appendages in a star. “Hello, Levi.” He says, squeezing his fingers shut in a wave. Tendrils of shade slide between his fingers, cool, but surprisingly soft to the touch. “So, is it a deal?”

Levi stops moving deliberately and hangs, suspending in the air for a moment before winding up the rest of his arm to settle around his shoulders. “It’s a deal.”

* * *

“Levi, can you tell me a story?” Erwin asks one night after his dad tucks him in.

“Your dad just told you a story.” Levi replies, peeling down from the wall to rest at the end of Erwin’s bed.

“Yeah, but I want another. You said you were old! That means you know stories I probably haven't even heard of before. Please, Levi?” Erwin asks, kicks his foot lightly against Levi’s form. The shadows shift away at the contact, nothing more than disturbed smoke.

Levi's quiet for a moment, then: “let me tell you about a girl I once knew.”

Erwin listens in rapt attention as Levi paints a picture of an orphaned girl who loved books. She was lucky enough to be taken in by a kind foster family, a new father that loved her dearly and a mother that taught her to read.

“She couldn’t read?” Erwin asks a touch too loudly. Levi shushes him quietly. “You said she was nine!”

“Things were different back then.” Levi explains. “Girls didn’t have the opportunity to do as much as boys did. It sucked as much as you’re imagining, trust me.”

The girl loved books, Levi explains, and while Levi used to tell her stories every night in the orphanage and during the early days at her new family’s home—a routine that originally began to stave off nightmares of burning buildings and charred corpses, she eventually began to read to him. Returning the favour, she had called it.

“Do you want me to read to you, Levi? I can do that if you’d like.” Erwin cuts in.

The shadows around Levi's face twist into something reminiscent of a smile. “You can if you want. Now, stop interrupting me.” Levi says without heat.

The girl loved the sciences; she wanted to know how things worked, wanted to test theories for herself, wanted to know the answers to every question in the world. Everyday she’d return to bed and tell Levi something new she learned that day, usually from the banned books her father would sneak just for her or from the experiments she performed in the backyard by herself.

“She was brilliant,” Levi says, drifting up the mattress to settle next to Erwin. Erwin rolls over on his side and looks at Levi with wonder. “She believed anything was possible and wanted to be the one to make it all happen.”

“What happened to her?” Erwin asks, picking up on the longing in his voice.

Levi sighs. He has eyes today, but they’re dulling from the bright silver they usually are. “She became like me.” He says. “Fell right into my world and disappeared off the face of yours. Her family missed her a lot.”

“Do you miss her?” Erwin asks.

Levi makes a sound like clicking teeth, then huffs out something similar to a laugh. “No. She didn’t go far.”

Erwin watches Levi, the slate grey eyes flanked by endless shade. He wonders if he's imagining the wistfulness in his the void of his eyes.

“That doesn’t sound so bad, then, turning into a monster.” Erwin says softly. “What was her name?”

“Zoe.” Levi says, purposefully ignoring he first part of his sentence. “But she hated that name, so she changed it later, when it didn't matter anymore.”

Erwin wonders if he can become a monster and stay with Levi forever, too. He doesn’t ask, though. Something tells him Levi won't like that question very much.

* * *

“I can’t reach that, how am I supposed to clean that shelf?”

There’s an odd quality to his son’s voice that stops him in his tracks. It  _sounds_  like he’s talking to someone, but he’s fairly certain his six-year-old doesn’t have any friends over—or friends at all, if he’s being completely honest with himself; his boy is a solitary one. Erwin’s door is slightly ajar, and he can see him through the opening. Erwin, still so small for his age, stands facing away from the door with his hands on his hips and stares at… nothing. There’s some kind of rustling in the background, like crumpled paper in the wind.

He looks over to the window. It’s closed.

“Easy for you to say! I’ll break my neck if I climb up there. Why don’t you do it if it’s bothering you so much— Oh, he is?”

Disturbed, he knocks on the door, interrupting Erwin’s rant. “Erwin?” He asks, expecting to surprise him.

Instead, Erwin turns around slowly, almost as if he was anticipating him. He stares at him with big blue eyes, a small smile on his face. “Hi, dad.” He says pleasantly.

“Who were you talking to?” He asks, stepping into the room, surprisingly neat for once.

Erwin tilts his head a touch, tense. “Levi. He’s my friend.” He says.

He smiles. “Your friend, huh?” He asks, stepping forward to push Erwin’s hair away from his face.

Erwin relaxes a fraction, his smile becoming less doll-like. “Yeah, dad, he’s great.” He says, leaning into the touch.

“Alright,” he says, ruffling his neatly parted hair playfully. “Dinner’s in half an hour, don’t forget. Mom’s making steak.”

“Okay!” He says. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices the shadows tucked in the very corner of his room shift slightly, like a separate entity. Quick as lightning, the motion stills.

A trick of the light, he reasons, though he can’t quite explain the hairs raising on the back of his neck. He’ll adjust the thermostat when he goes downstairs.

* * *

“Are you attached to me?” Erwin asks suddenly, after he's been kissed and tucked away for bed.

The shadows twist, climbing down from the wall like something sinister that doesn't scare Erwin at all anymore. Levi settles into slightly more physical form, perches on his bed so he can look down at Erwin all snuggled in his sheets. He tips his head, shadows curling around him. “Why are you asking?” he asks, staring at Levi’s eerie silver eyes, too bright, but always capable of captivating Erwin.

“I’m just curious.” He says, squirming around in bed trying to get comfortable.

Levi pulls the covers farther up his chin and pulls the covers up to his chin slides tendrils of smoke through his hair. “Something like that,” he says eventually, dissipating into smoke to curl up in the shadows under Erwin’s pillow.

“Does that mean we can go outside and play?” Erwin whispers excitedly, tucking his hand beneath his pillow so he can feel Levi sifting through his fingers.

“Sure,” Levi says, amused. Then, “quiet! Someone’s coming to check on you.”

Erwin shuts his eyes tight just in time for his mom to crack open the door. He tries hard not to giggle when Levi tickles his nose, feather light.

“Erwin? Are you awake?” She asks. She doesn't sound angry, so he takes the bait.

“No,” he whispers loudly. “But Levi is.”

His mom laughs softly. “Well, then, tell Levi it’s time for bed. It’s late, baby. Goodnight.”

“’Night, mom.” Erwin says as she shuts the door. “G’night, Levi.” He says softer.

Levi doesn’t say anything in reply, but Erwin knows he hears him. He always does.

* * *

Somewhere along the line, it becomes wrong to mention Levi in front of his parents.

One night during dinner, when he’s eight-years-old, he tells his parents a story of children who get sucked into the Darkness. He explains that there are kids that disappear and kids that Disappear. They leave their families behind and become something else, something that Levi doesn't even understand completely.

“Who told you that, Erwin?” His mother asks from across the table, eyebrows furrowed.

Erwin doesn’t look up from his carrots. “Levi did.”

“Levi? Your… imaginary friend Levi?” She clarifies.

Erwin doesn’t make eye contact with her, stabs a green bean a little more viciously than necessary. “He’s the monster that lives under my bed.”

His mother makes a strange noise. “Come again?”

Erwin shifts uncomfortably. He’s beginning to regret telling this story. His mother laughs a little, though it’s more surprised than amused. Nervous, almost. “Erwin,” she says fondly. Erwin flinches, her eyebrows furrow again, worried.

She rounds the table, stooping to crouch in front of her boy who still won’t look her in the eye, confidence completely drained. Gently now, “baby, you know there are no such things as monsters.”

Erwin looks up slowly, watches her with bright, bright blue eyes. “He told me you’d say that.”

His mother gapes, looks to Erwin’s father for assistance. He takes the hint. “Erwin,” he says, cutting through the tension. He hesitates. “What do you think that other place is like? Where the children go?” He asks instead, indulging him and swallowing back the concerned chide building up in his throat.

Erwin opens his mouth to answer, but the look his mother’s giving his dad cuts him short.

“Uh, never mind, it’s okay—sorry.” Erwin says woodenly, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth, knuckles white around the fork. There’s something detached in him when he says it, something hollow that's unsettling to the bone. Levi is very, very still, clinging to the folds in his shirt. “That was a strange thing to say.”

They sit in silence for the rest of dinner, nothing but the clink of cutlery against their plates to break the awkward tension.

*

Later that night, Erwin hears his parents arguing while trying to sneak down for a glass of water.

"I'm worried about him." He hears his mother say.

Erwin peeks through the slightly open door. His dad’s washing dishes, handing the clean ones for his mother to dry and pack away. "I know." He replies.

"’You know’? All you have to say is ‘ _you know’_?" She says. Erwin holds his breath.

"He's a child with an overactive imagination—"

"Do you hear yourself right now?" His mother snaps, slamming a plastic cup down hard against the counter. Erwin flinches hard.

Even though they aren't screaming at each other, his parents aren't exactly being kind, either. Erwin makes his way slowly up the stairs, water forgotten and purposely avoiding the spots where the steps creek the most.

To his left, the shadow cast by the railing come alive and winds around his arm to settle in the wrinkles of Erwin's shirt.

Erwin is almost nine-years-old and having imaginary friends isn’t cute anymore.

"They think something's wrong with me." Erwin whispers into the darkness of his room.

"They're wrong." Levi replies. "You're fine."

Erwin pushes the blankets away from his head and watches Levi swirl rapidly across his ceiling. He raises his arm and Levi comes down immediately, dancing between his fingers.

"You just need to get better at pretending." Levi says.

* * *

“Who’s that?”

“That’s Erwin Smith.”

“Why’s he sitting by himself?”

“Because he’s  _weird—_ ”

“Do they really think you can’t hear them?” A voice hisses, writhing angrily in the creases of Erwin’s collar.

Erwin doesn’t answer. He already knows better than to say anything aloud in public.

* * *

“Levi, where did you come from?” Erwin asks one day in the safe quiet of his room.

Levi emerges from his desk’s shadow, up and out and settling into his usual silhouette of a boy mirroring Erwin’s age.

“Monsters are made, Erwin.” Levi rasps out, extending one sharp claw like appendage to curl under his chin. “I was like you a long time ago.”

Erwin hums, taking this in stride. “Does that mean if I go wherever you go when you’re not here, I become… like you?”

“You’re quick,” Levi says, a strange tone lacing the words. "Now drop it."

 *

“It's a choice, right? You must have been sad.” Erwin whispers later that night, swirling his fingers through smoke. Levi feels cool and damp on his fingers, but his hand always comes away dry. “To leave your family like that; they must not have been very nice.”

“More or less,” Levi says, looking miles away, eyes like dulling silver. It’s the most human Erwin’s ever seen him. “I never know how to respond when you all ask me that.”

Erwin sits up a little straighter. “Ask you what?”

“Where I come from. It was a long time ago; a lot of the details get lost in time.” Levi murmurs, but Erwin feels like he’s lying.

“What do you mean, ‘you all’?” he asks, sitting upright on his bed. “Other kids like me?” Erwin doesn't really like the idea of sharing Levi; Levi's his.

Levi hums, settles on his bed in the form of a boy. “You’re not the only kid with a monster living under your bed. The girl before you was called Isabel.”

Erwin contemplates this. Levi’s not a monster; he doesn’t like it when he says he is. “Was she nice?” He asks.

Levi’s features flicker and for a moment, Erwin sees pale, human eyes that look so, so old, before he phases back into a faceless silhouette.

“Yes, she was.” He says tiredly. Erwin looks down at his hands, then reaches out to grasp Levi’s hand softly as to not disturb the shadows too much.

“What happened to her?” Erwin whispers.

The natural shadows in his room come to life in one jagged motion. They climb up the walls, twisting and writhing angrily. Erwin’s breath catches in his throat as he jerks back away from Levi, because Levi, oh-so calm Levi, rips his hand out of Erwin’s grasp and condenses into a ball of pure blackness, crackling with flashes of silver like bottled lightning.

Then, in an instant, it’s all over. The shadows on the walls settle back into their place and Levi is nothing more than a young boy cloaked in shade.

“We’re not the monsters you need to worry about, Erwin.” Levi says eventually. A pause. “Your father loves you. He’s a good man, you’re very lucky.”

Erwin doesn’t quite understand, but he thinks he has an idea.

Still, there’s another question Erwin wants to ask. “Levi, why do you call yourself a monster?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think you’re a monster. You’re good.” Erwin shrugs.

Levi laughs, cold and chilling, nails raking over glass. Erwin catches a glimpse of double rows of pointed teeth flashing bright in the moonlight. He rests one clawed hand against Erwin’s cheek, exhales softly as he leans into the cool touch. “You wouldn’t say that about the rest of us.” He whispers.

* * *

"Do you ever regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Becoming... like this. A monster." The word tastes sour.

Levi watches him with a strange emotion stirring in his eyes, something like tenderness. "No. I have no regrets."

* * *

Erwin likes going to the library with Levi.

He likes the way Levi clings to him, under his collar, in his pockets, pressed neatly to his scalp beneath his hair. He really likes having him close to him like that and he’s not entirely sure why.

They’re quiet on their walks to the library—Erwin knows better than to talk to Levi in public, seeing how no one can see him, but still, having Levi all over him like that is… nice. He likes it a lot. It feels safe.

They settle in their usual corner tucked away in the far end of the library. Levi appears as nothing more than a shadow so he can slide into the hollows beneath Erwin’s eyes and still manage to tell him when to flip the page.

Then one day, when he’s twelve-years-old, a tall, timid boy sidles up next to him and quietly asks if he can borrow his book because it’s the last one on the shelf. Erwin says yes, looks up and blinks.

The boy is really something else, Erwin decides. He’s tall with dirty blond hair and dark blue eyes. Pretty. Erwin finds that he doesn’t want him to go.

As it turns out, the boy comes to the library often—not as often as Erwin, but often enough that he eventually starts to seek Erwin out when he comes.

His name is Mike. He lives around the corner, but goes to the other middle school that offers French immersion, which explains why Erwin’s never seen him. He’s soft spoken and always sniffling, much to Erwin’s amusement, because Erwin's never had to deal with allergies and likes to watch Mike get frustrated as he tries to say  _you just don't get it_. They talk about books and movies and games and Mike even offers to teach Erwin how to play tennis, and even though Erwin’s not really interested in sports, he wouldn’t really mind hanging out with Mike some more.

Slowly, trips to the library with Levi turn into trips to the library to hang out with Mike.

“Where’d you go today?” Erwin asks him one night, hyper-aware of the fact that Levi was  _not with him_  half way during his library trip and couldn't shake the utter wrongness of it all once he realized. He ended up leaving early, a half formed excuse hanging in the air as he tracked every single shadow that could possibly be Levi on his way out.

Levi comes out from under his bed, hangs in the air expressionless in a way Erwin hasn't seen in years. “You were hanging out with that guy you like; I thought I’d give you some privacy.” He says.

The thought of Levi leaving him during times where he should  _be_ with Erwin almost drowns out the implication that he has a crush on anyone. Cheeks flushed, Erwin shakes his head frantically. “You don’t have to do that, I don’t mind.”

Levi doesn’t move. “You should probably mind a little bit, you know.”

“I don’t.” Erwin says, stretching a hand out to touch one smoky cheek lightly. “Do you want to leave?” Erwin asks carefully, fear seizing his gut.

“Of course I don’t.” Levi sighs. “But you’re walking along a dangerous ledge, Erwin. Be careful.”

Erwin doesn’t care, he just wants Levi close.

He tells Mike his parents found out about him lying about going to the library and going to his house instead and that now he’s grounded. Mike understands, flushes a bright red when he tells Erwin to keep in touch and that’s that.

* * *

High school is different.

The high school Erwin attends is a lot larger than his old middle school. The class structure is different, there are over a thousand students to get lost in and there's no privacy  _anywhere_.

Erwin can't talk to Levi in this setting— it's too risky, and honestly, Erwin's getting a little tired of being that creepy kid at the back of class.

He meets Mike again in his English class, who then introduces him to Nile, Nanaba and Petra who are friendly and actually  _like_ him and want to hang out with him. Even stranger, he finds that he looks forward to spending time with them, too.

For the first time, Erwin has a solid group of friends, and Levi's presence begins to feel less and less necessary.

* * *

When he’s fifteen, it’s a little easier to admit that crushes exists and he gets a girlfriend. Kind of.

“Kind of?” Levi asks, manifesting on his bed in wisping tendrils of charcoal. It’s the first time he’s seen him in weeks.

“Yeah— it just happened? She asked me out and I said yes? She’s in my history class; we worked on a project together.” Erwin explains, spinning around in his chair to as the loneliness of Levi's absence ebbs away.

Erwin can almost feel the insult radiating off Levi’s silhouette and he smiles despite himself. Erwin sighs, swings his ankle up on his knee. “Her name’s Marie.”

“Marie,” Levi says, an odd quality colouring his voice.

He disappears back under the bed before Erwin can ask. He doesn’t see Levi for the rest of the week.

*

Marie comes over to work on the project, which of course translates into lying in his bed making out. While her lips are soft and smooth, Erwin doesn’t really see the appeal of this sort of thing. It’s nice, he supposes, but he’s not sure if this is really something he’s interested in and the thought terrifies him in a way he never expected.

“Are you alright?” She asks, jolting him out of his train of thought. His erection’s flagging in her palm and he wants nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Am… Am I doing something wrong?” She looks so nervous and Erwin can feel her confidence draining, which is a shame because she's so stunning beautiful and such a genuinely good person on top of it all. He hates that he can’t give himself to her properly, and fuck, he  _wants_ to, but it’s just… not working and he doesn’t know why.

“I—sorry, here—” he rolls over, presses her gently into the mattress, bracing himself above her on his elbows. Erwin’s not quite sure what to do here, but kissing her seems like a good idea, seeing how she arches her neck up to meet him in the middle, so he does.

*

“That was a disaster.” Levi’s voice breaks through the silence later that night.

“You were  _watching_?” He asks, both mortified and stupidly happy that Levi's back and talking to him again, though he supposes that’s partially his fault. He’s been busy lately, but he still feels bad for forgetting about Levi.

Levi doesn’t say anything, but he does come to life, emerging out from the shadow cast by Erwin’s pen. He’s tiny, small enough to sit comfortably in the palm of Erwin’s hand.

Erwin folds his arms and rests his chin in the space between them against the desk. He watches Levi, faceless except for his lightning split eyes. He blows on him slightly, smiles a little when Levi swats one small arm around in front of his face, shadows trailing behind the movement.

“So,  _that_  wasn’t as good as everyone says it is.” Erwin says.

Levi snorts, shadows curling around like vines. He hops up on Erwin’s arms, taking on a more stable form and flicks him in the nose. He grins wickedly, and even though Erwin nearly goes cross-eyed trying to focus, he can see double rows of white pointed teeth flanked by the twisting grey that never seems to stop moving.

He can't help but feel warm at the sight, not when Levi's _smiling_.

Silver eyes glint almost mischievously. “Really, now?” And he’s gone in a flash.

A tendril of smoke curls around Erwin’s thigh, stopping short of his crotch. His breath catches in his throat as he jerks sharply, dislodging the coiling shadow. Levi laughs ominously, low and grating.

“You’re probably just into cock. Either way, don’t knock it off the table until you’ve been nailed a few times.” He says easily. Erwin flips his pen around his finger and says nothing.

*

He wakes up later that night hard and aching, want crackling through his veins as he tries to chase the tail end of the dream about a dark-haired boy with bright, bright eyes cloaked in smoke. He tries not to think too hard about it.

Sometime during the night, his legs tangled in his sheets, damp, cool and generally uncomfortable. He’s hyper-aware of the clamminess clinging to his skin, but that doesn’t stop him from sliding his sweatpants and underwear down his legs and kicking them away so he can get his hand on his dick and relieve the tension building up hot and tight in his groin.

He cups himself lightly, palming against his erection and nearly biting through his lip in effort to keep quiet. But it’s good, it’s so good and he needs to come  _so badly_.

“Erwin,” Levi’s voice filters through the haze in his head. Erwin startles, cries out because he swears he can feel Levi everywhere in the air surrounding him but he can’t  _see_ him and he needs to, he  _needs_ to—

“Stay quiet,” Levi says, low and intimate. “Keep going, I want to see you.”

Tentatively, Erwin obeys, draws his palm up his cock, closing his hand around the crown. He sighs softly, repeats the motion, lets the pleasure build low in his gut, arching his back to get closer.

“Fuck, that’s good, you’re so good, Erwin.” Levi hums.

Erwin whimpers, nods his head desperately.

“Now,” he says, air crackling around him. “I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything.” Erwin gasps, bucking up into his fist.

“Grab the hand lotion from your bedside table. Trust me.”

He lets Levi coax him into fingering himself open, lets Levi instruct him as the low rasp of his voice sinks into his skin. He has three fingers buried deep inside him, rocking his hips up to meet each thrust of his wrist, almost drunk from how good it feels. His cock leaks steadily now, heat coiling low in his belly even as every muscle in his body pulls tight.

Erwin opens his eyes and sees Levi hovering over him. Erwin realizes he can actually _see_ distinct features on bloodless olive-toned skin—the sharp jaw, narrow lips and deep set eyes that flash silver in the moonlight, timeless as always. It’s gone in an instant; Levi’s face blurs away, lightning quick, right as Erwin cranes his neck, stretching up to close the distance between them. Levi dissolves in the blink of an eye, his ragged  _wait, Levi_  falling short. _  
_

Erwin comes hard, harder than he’s ever come before in his life. His back curves off the bed as his come laces the front of his shirt, Levi’s name falling from his lips—a plea? A demand? Erwin can’t tell the difference anymore. He can't see him anymore, but he's vividly aware of Levi's presence surrounding him in a way that he feels safe enough to fall asleep.

He calls Marie the next day, shamefully explaining that he doesn’t think they’re going to work out. She’s sweet about it—of course she is, says  _it’s okay, Erwin, it’s not your fault. Don’t think you’re getting rid of me, though; you’re still my friend_ so painfully earnest that his _of course_ tastes like ash on his tongue.

The fact that he doesn’t regret any of it only makes him feel worse.

* * *

Erwin is sixteen-years-old when his father dies.

 _A car accident_ , his mother explains, voice rough and barely keeping it together. She runs a hand through the fine blond hair, moving down to rest at his cheek, grounding him even as his world tilts off its axis. He’s a lot taller than her now, but that doesn’t stop him from sinking into her arms and burying his face in her neck to let the tears fall.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. “We’ll be okay, right, mom?”

She rears back. “What are you apologizing for?”

Erwin swallows hard, looks away. “It’s nothing, I—I just,” he trails off, hoping his mother will let it go. She doesn’t.

“Erwin—” she says, stern.

“He was supposed to pick  _me_ up.” He cuts her off, voice breaking. “I—I missed the bus, I called him and he—”

“Enough.” She cuts him short, dragging him forward and holding him tightly. “Were you driving the other car?”

“No, but—”

“Then it’s not your fault.” She says. “Baby, listen to me, this is not your fault in any way, do you understand me?”

He says nothing.

“Erwin.”

“I guess.” He says eventually, leaning back to scrub at his eyes. He doesn’t sound convinced in the least and she knows it.

* 

Erwin jolts awake later that night, a scream catching in his throat as he tries desperately to suck in air. He’s dewy with sweat, the sheets tangled in his legs. He panics when he can’t free himself, kicks desperately to  _get out get out get out_.

The cry for his father gets caught in his throat, trapped with the images of a car wreckage and his bloody, mangled body reaching out to him, calling for him and Erwin can’t breathe.

“Levi,” he calls softly, voice thick with tears. “ _Levi.”_

“Shush,” the voice creeps up on him, crackling like dead leaves in the wind. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

The lively, animated shades dancing across the ceiling shift and twist, pulling away from the nightlight in the corner of his room. Levi manifests into something nearly tangible, but not quite. He takes on the shape of a small boy his age, black shadow moving as fluid as mist. The familiar glint of piercing silver eyes glimmer not unkindly as he settles down beside Erwin.

Together, they lay side by side, Erwin rubbing fruitlessly at his cheeks to clear the tear tracks. Levi raises long claw-like fingers to brush Erwin’s matted fringe away from his face.

Erwin’s surprised when he Levi’s touch actually makes physical contact, like a real-life hand pressing against his face. He holds his breath, focuses on the cool sensation on his scalp, light as gossamer wings. Levi hasn't been able to hold form strong enough to appear palpable in months.

Erwin lifts a shaking hand to rest on Levi’s cheek, only to meet a slight resistance before it sinks through, distorting the shape. Shadows curl around his palm, directionless, smoke.

Levi makes an odd noise, a sound like teeth clicking. “Don’t do that,” he says. Erwin ignores him, scoots down to bury his face lightly enough in the shadow so he doesn’t disrupt it again. He listens to the hollow stillness inside what acts as the silhouette’s chest.

“It’s not your fault.” Levi murmurs, slings his arms around him and holds him close. “Don’t be stupid, how could it be your fault? Your mother’s right, you did nothing wrong.”

He closes his eyes, focusing on the silk carding through his hair. He knows it’s not his fault, but he can’t shake the feeling, the little voice in the back of his head that tells him otherwise, that tells him if he hadn’t stayed after class arguing with his teacher, then he wouldn’t have missed his bus; wouldn’t have had to call—

“Sleep now,” Levi rasps, the words cloaked by a strange ringing tone that Erwin can't help but obey. He falls into it, the strange, persistent tug of sleep against his eyelids.

* * *

Monsters aren’t real. This is what he tells himself.

Monsters aren’t real and he isn’t a child anymore—he  _isn’t_ a child and he doesn’t need some kind of defense mechanism because he’s incapable of dealing with—with life.

His mother is worried about him and she’s already dealing with  _so_ much, he doesn’t want to add to her stress, and frankly, they can't afford the therapist she's considering sending him to.

Erwin scrubs his hands over his face, makes a conscious effort to stop the tears welling up in his eyes. He’s seventeen-years-old. Monsters aren’t real. Levi isn’t real. He doesn’t need him—whatever he needed him for—anymore.

Erwin avoids his bedroom. He does his homework at the kitchen table and develops a tendency to pass out on the couch. His mother still worries, of course, but somehow he thinks manages to convince her that it’s just school that has him so exhausted.

He joins clubs, diligently completes his work to as close to perfection as he can manage. He tells his mother he’s working towards a full-ride scholarship, which is true—anything he can do to ease her burden is worth a couple late nights for her sake.

The days go by and Erwin works himself to the bone. He stays after school participating in clubs, goes to the public library to study, and even picks up tennis again thanks to Mike's persistence and actually makes the team. 

Eventually, the shadows on the walls stop shifting, and Erwin forgets to look.

He and his mother move out of the old house—she can’t afford it on her own and the prospect of university is approaching faster than Erwin’s prepared to deal with. The apartment they move into is small, a little dingy, but Erwin’s mother is good at what she does. Together, they try and make the place home—they buy the nicest furniture they can with their meagre budget, paint the walls in warm tones with soft music playing in the background in an attempt to fill the missing piece that threatens to suffocate them both. It doesn’t help, but neither of them say the words out loud.

Their apartment is gorgeous when his mother finishes working her magic. It’s not home, but it’s beautiful nonetheless.

At night, when Erwin lies awake in his new room missing his father terribly, he imagines the shadows flitting across the walls, slides his hand beneath his pillow hoping against hope he'll feel Levi there. He never does.

The shadows don’t move, of course. They haven’t moved in a long, long time. Erwin wonders what would have happened if followed Levi into the Dark, or if he screamed for his father the first time Levi twitched to life. He wonders which would have been easier.

* * *

Erwin meets Hange in his first year of university.

She finds him at a concert by some unheard of indie band during orientation quietly nursing a beer that tastes truly awful. She's eccentric— loud bordering obnoxious and easily excitable in a way Erwin has never been. She doesn't seem to mind that he's never really in the best of moods during their 8:30AM classes and instead teases him about noisy roommates all the while offering him a place to crash on her couch. She passes out cold in most of their shared lectures yet _still_ manages to score a better grade than him after each exam, even though he's in the top percentile. Either way, she helps him study nonetheless.

"How are you still functioning?" He definitely does not whine, no matter what she says otherwise.

It's 4:30AM and Erwin knows better than to pull all-nighters, but old habits die hard and he really wishes his exam schedule wasn’t so tightly packed.

“Get used to it,” she says passing him her coffee. There’s too much sugar, but he’s getting used to it—or rather, getting used to her. Hange's quickly becoming one his closest friends. “One day when you’re studying to be a lawyer and I’m not-studying to be a doctor—”

“You don’t even  _want_  to go into medicine—”

“Fuck you, I’m still getting my Ph.D; anyway—”

"You still study a lot, you just don't pay attention in class, I don't even understand _how_ —" _  
_

" _Erwin_ , you're missing the point— hey, what are you doing?"

“Maybe I should just go to sleep,” he says into a pillow as he flops on Hange’s tiny dorm bed, feet dangling over the edge. He tries not to think about the average he needs to maintain to renew his scholarship. “I’ll get up early in the morning and study.” He lets his hand drag off the edge of the bed, traces random patterns into the carpet, lets his mind drift to a place where general first year psychology doesn't exist.

“Hey.” Hange’s voice is stupidly close to his face. When he opens his eyes, she’s inches away. She picks up his hand and drops it on the bed. “The monsters’ll get you if you do that.” She says, her voice taking on a strange, song-like quality.

Erwin forces himself not to react. He opens his eyes slowly, a measured movement. “The only monsters in this world are people, Hange.”

Hange’s eyes flash a vivid gold and Erwin can’t disguise the sharp intake of breath that gets caught in his throat.  _A trick of the light_ , he reasons. He must be more sleep deprived than he originally thought.

“You don’t really believe that, do you, Erwin?” She whispers, eyes bright, voice underscored by an eerily familiar lilt he's definitely heard before. Erwin can’t look away. He opens his mouth, tries to speak, but Hange’s running her fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. His head is swims, the room spins and Erwin can’t remember what he was about to say.

“Sweet dreams.” Is the last thing hears before the world goes dark, comforting in its nothingness.

* * *

Erwin doesn’t really like dating.

While he tends to gravitate toward men, he does have a noticeable type—Hange teases him frequently about it.

Short in height, dark hair, elfin features. Closer to blunt than tactful, outwardly stoic and painfully sentimental in a way Hange  _always_ notices.

The relationships never work out, not really. Erwin makes an active effort not to think too hard about  _why_.

Marie worries about him, always trying to bring it up during their Skype calls. It’s always the  _how are you feeling, Erwin? No really. You’re not lonely are you? Make sure you don’t hole yourself up in your room, I know how you get and I’m not there to kick your ass for doing it_  lecture that makes him both miss her terribly and vaguely annoyed at the same time.

He’s always been capable of lying to himself. If there’s no connection, then there’s no connection, he tells himself, beats the lie down until he can no longer tell what it is.

* * *

It’s a spur of the moment decision when he decides to visit his old house after a job interview in his hometown at the age of twenty-one.

The area is mostly unchanged—the houses are familiar, the park down the street looks like it’s been renovated, which is a good thing. He only wishes the sand replaced the wood-chips sooner in time to save his knees. He’s glad he decided to take a few gap years after he graduated before pursuing professional school, both to ease the burden on his mother’s shoulders and attempt to minimize the massive impending debt waiting for him. Either way, he probably wouldn’t have returned to this place under any other circumstance.

Briefly, he wonders if he should visit his father's grave. Being surrounded by the comfort of his old home reminds him of the gaping hole his father left in his chest when he died and how now, it feels less like irritating a fresh lesion and more like stretching scar tissue. Erwin wonders when the wound began to heal and why he didn't notice it sooner.

Nostalgia clinging to his fingertips, Erwin decides to leave his car in the old middle school parking lot and walk the rest of the way down his street, for old time’s sake.

Unfortunately, he isn’t actually expecting anyone to be at his house, which is a mistake on his part. So when he sees a child no more than the age of ten playing by himself on what used to be his front lawn, Erwin finds himself at a loss.

The child is beautiful, what with his dark hair and complexion. Wide green eyes stare back at him, head cocked slightly in question.

“The windows are open. Mom will hear me scream if you try to take me, mister.” The boy says calmly. Erwin nearly chokes.

“I’m not going to take you.” He says, hoping he doesn’t come across as creepy as he feels. The boy blinks at him before he turns around to walk back toward the house, picking up what looks like a mangled action figure, and takes it with him.

When he sees it, Erwin nearly collapses.

Behind the boy, where his shadow follows closely behind lies a second, a shadow too dark, too vivid to be the result of the setting sun, moving independently of the boy’s body.

“Wait!” Erwin calls, heart caught in his throat. “Wait, please.”

The boy stops, turns his head to watch Erwin over his shoulder, but Erwin can’t keep his eyes off the shadows that are spiralling and emerging into the familiar silhouette that marked his childhood, settling into the colourless, bright eyed but stoic boy that continues to haunt his dreams.

Levi stares at him, cocks his head to the side, mirroring the boy like he’s daring him to say something.

Erwin glances back at the boy, looks into his unnerving green eyes then flickers back to Levi, whose form changes entirely. For a split second, Levi morphs into something truly horrifying.

It’s awful. Levi’s skin is nothing more than rotting and peeling flesh with long, gangly limbs accompanied by tentacles twisting in every direction. He has hoofed feet and is impossibly tall, nothing like the profile of the boy that marks Erwin’s childhood, his life if he's being honest with himself. Yet, at the same time, he  _knows_  this is Levi; knows it like the sun rising in the east and the way time is absolute.

And then, in the blink of the eye, that Levi disappears. His Levi returns and the sun sets westward.

“Can you see him?” The boy asks, watching him strangely.

“Shh, Eren. It’s alright.” Levi says softly, rests a tendril of smoke on his shoulder. Eren leans into the touch and Erwin imagines a tentacle in its place. His skin crawls.

“Go talk to Hange. Trust me.” Levi says directly to him, watching him with those luminescent silver eyes that he could never quite recreate in his mind.

A woman’s voice cuts through the tense silence, cutting off Erwin’s retort. “Eren! Come in for dinner!” She calls.

Eren stares at him. “Coming,” he says. He turns around, doesn’t look back. Levi glances back at him, but follows Eren nonetheless.

Erwin wants a drink.

* * *

He meets Hange later that day for lunch after leaving a flustered voice-mail on her phone. She's waiting at the café for him with two cups of coffee and a giant muffin for them to split when he finally arrives.

"I saw Levi today," he says, cutting straight to the chase. Too many things start to add up all at once: Hange's quirks, the strange flashing over her eyes he now knows he hasn't imagined. He takes a sip of coffee; it's not bad. Too much sugar as usual, but it's decent.

"I figured," she says. "Levi asked me to find you while you were in high school, but I was already part of this world by then; I had no way of doing it otherwise. He was worried about you."

Erwin looks down at his coffee, guilt settling in his gut like a stone. "What does that mean? Part of this world?" He asks.

"We're not supposed to stay in one place for too long." She says, resting her elbows on the table, fingers steepled by her lips. Her eyes look more gold than brown today. "Not for long— you know how that goes; kids grow out of having imaginary friends, then we're Unbound, we go to another kid. I'm here because mine didn't let go. You know Moblit?"

“Moblit Berner?” Erwin asks incredulously, thinking about the skittish fine arts major who used to drink him and Mike under the table at the parties Nile used dragged him to.

“Yup. That’s him! A good thing that happened, too. I don't know what I would have done when Levi showed up in his room asking me to look out for you. It's not like I could have moved under your bed.” She winks, grin spread wide across her face.

Erwin blinks, tries to ignore the warmth swelling in his chest, the clenching of his heart. "Are you stuck here? Forever?" Erwin asks belatedly, horrified when he remembers that secondary piece of information.

Hange pushes her drink a side, leans forward on her elbows to stare at Erwin. Her eyes flash briefly, flickering like candle fire.

"Listen to me." She says seriously. "It's not natural for kids to cling that long, Erwin. We either get pulled into this world, or the kids come to ours. That's how we're formed. We were all human once. Even Levi."

A pause. "What happens then?"

Hange watches him with a strange expression. "Nothing for us— we go back to wherever we came from after the child dies. The Bond breaks and the cycle continues, basically. For the kid?"

Her eyes darken. Erwin feels the hair on his arms raise. "They become one of us. That's a life sentence."

Erwin drums his fingers against his mug, considering. His coffee's lukewarm now. He starts when Hange places her hand over his. It's cool to the touch, he notes. Not cold, but a touch warmer than room temperature. The difference was just a passing thought before, but now it's so glaringly obvious in its otherworldliness that he feels a bit sick.

"Hey." She says, because she knows him better than most. "You can't dwell on what-ifs. It's not your fault, stop that."

Erwin thinks about his father, thinks about the same words Levi uttered to him all those years ago, lips pressed to his forehead like he could pour himself into Erwin's cracks and make him whole again.

"I know." He says. He turns his palm over and holds her hand tightly, okay with the temperature of her skin. He thinks about the story Levi told him eons ago, the curious girl with the books and wonders why he never bothered to ask what she changed her name to. Call it intuition, but Erwin has a feeling he knows exactly what name the girl chose.

"I know." He says again, stronger than before. And he finally starts to believe it.

* * *

Erwin gets back to his apartment after meeting with Hange and nearly collapses at the sight in front of him.

He doesn’t recognize him at first, not physically, but those familiar eyes pin him in place, leave him breathless. Levi stands before him, eyes still a brilliant ethereal shade of silver, but lacking the distinct metallic inhuman quality that Erwin can finally admit he grew to love over time. He has an ageless air to him, but looks solid and _real_ in a way that makes Erwin question why he ever though Levi was a figment of his imagination. He’s still worryingly pallid, but there's some red beneath the dark complexion that was always present whenever Erwin caught a glimpse beyond the shade. Erwin can hear him breathing, watch his chest—surprisingly sturdy, expand and contract beneath what Erwin recognizes as own shirt with each life-giving breath he takes.

“Levi?” He breathes, uncomprehending. It’s impossible, everything—from the beginning, it’s all impossible _, he shouldn’t_ —

“Yeah,” Levi says, voice soft, belying the way it strikes Erwin like a blow to the chest. Erwin can sense the fragility there, the vulnerability lying just beneath the surface that makes him clench his fists against the urge to reach out and hold him. “It’s me.”

Erwin blinks, steps forward a few steps, unable to rip his gaze away. He’s close enough to touch, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed. He raises his hand slowly, watches Levi’s eyes track his movements, lightning quick. Then gently, achingly so, Erwin runs his knuckles down the length of his cheek, breathes a shaky sigh as he feels the cool softness of Levi’s flesh.

Levi shudders, inhaling sharply. His hand, so small and fragile-looking, shoots up to hold Erwin's hand close to his cheek with a surprisingly sturdy grip. He adjusts accordingly, cupping Levi’s jaw lightly, hyperaware of Levi’s cool touch against his skin. He hooks his fingers into the hollow beneath his ear, latching on and dragging him close. Levi's eyes flutter shut, savouring the feeling, leaning into his touch tentatively; still too nervous to take what’s his. Eventually, Erwin brings up the other hand, cupping his face like something precious, something loved, and rests his forehead against his.

“Erwin.” Levi exhales, broken open and wrecked. Erwin cuts him off.

“Are you real?” He asks desperately. “Please, please tell me this is real, _please_ , Levi,” he begs.

Levi’s eyes soften, crinkling gently around the edges. “It is,” he says quietly, as if speaking too loudly will shatter this delicate thing they have suspended between them. “It is, I promise, I’m here— _yours_.” He says. Erwin feels him shift under his hands, his eyes fluttering shut. Levi tilts his head up toward his, mouth parted enticingly and it’s all the permission Erwin needs.

He meets Levi in the middle, follows the natural progression of the movement, the rise and the fall: Erwin’s head crooked sideways, molding his lips to Levi’s as he surges up toward him in the same motion. Erwin grabs him by the waist, drags him closer because this is real, real like the warmth of the sun, the ebb and flow of the tide. Levi is tangible and he can finally, _finally_ reach out and touch him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, running his hands up and down the curve of his back. “I’m sorry I sent you away, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, a litany.

A broken noise exits Levi's throat and he arches into him, like he can crawl inside the cage of Erwin's chest and never leave. Something inside Erwin shatters, falling apart in Levi's embrace safe in the knowledge that he will be enough hold Erwin together. He slides his hands back, fingers running over the velvety texture of the shorn hair at the base of Levi's neck as he tears away to mouth wetly along the edge of his jaw, teeth nipping in his desperation. He tilts Levi's head back, tracks his thumbs over those sharp cheekbones, kissing down the slope of his neck. Levi looks identical to every flash and flicker he ever thought he imagined.

“It’s okay,” Levi whispers, sincere. “It’s alright, I promise.” He drags his lips back to his, slides his tongue across the seam of Erwin’s lips. Erwin sighs through his nose, tangling his tongue with Levi’s, tilts his head sideways to get closer. He walks them backwards until Levi’s back hits the nearest wall with a soft thud.

Levi's hands slide up to tangle in Erwin's hair, swallowing his moan as Levi tongue slides hotly against his own. “Look at you,” Levi says raggedly against his lips when they pause to breathe. “You’re all grown up. All fuckin’— _ah_ , old and shit.”

Erwin slides his hands under Levi's ass, pushes up a bit to coax his legs up and around his waist. He latches onto his neck, sucking hard, pulling the blood up to the surface when Levi moans. He grinds his erection against Levi’s groin, pinning him tightly against the wall. Levi's legs tighten around his waist and Erwin wishes more than anything that he barrier of fabric between them would just disintegrate because he’s still not close enough and nearly frantic with it. He reaches behind him, loosens Levi's grip from his hair, stroking his wrists softly when Levi whines in protest. Erwin twines their fingers tightly together, holding their hands above his head. Mouths _it's alright, I've got you_ against his lips when Levi jerks against the movement in an attempt to steady himself. He relaxes almost immediately, trusts Erwin to keep him upright and rolls his hips, grinding his cock hard against Erwin's body.

Levi hisses. “It’s been so long—” he gasps, “do you know how long I’ve waited to touch you? Erwin, _Erwin_ , shit—” he cuts off when Erwin nips at the edge of his jaw again, sliding his tongue over the mark to soothe the ache.

“Yeah?” He asks, mouthing across his jaw to his ear, sucking the lobe between his teeth. Levi jerks sharply in his arms, but presses forward nonetheless.

“Yeah,” he exhales when Erwin slides his hands down Levi's arms, his sides, resting at his hips and tightly, bruising. Levi's hands fall, steadying themselves against his shoulders as he loosens his grip around Erwin's waist, but Erwin slides his hands up Levi's thighs instead, presses him further into the wall, hips grinding up. Levi kisses him like he'd be content to have Erwin pressed close to him like this for the rest of his life, and while Erwin doesn't oppose, he wants more, wants to give Levi everything. Together, they stumble toward Erwin’s couch, Erwin urging Levi on his back, kneeling over him as he watches the debauched creature before him pant for air, breath caught in his throat. A multitude of emotions swell in Erwin's chest, and all he can think about is getting closer.

“Tell me,” he breathes hotly, mouth seeking the hollow beneath his ear. “Tell me what you’re feeling; tell me how I can make this better for you.” Erwin bites at his neck, sucks another bruise onto the delicate skin.

“Fuck,” Levi gasps, carding his fingers through the fine blond hair and dragging him closer. “Just touch me. Please.”

Levi sounds so wrecked, so open and defenceless that Erwin can’t help but oblige. He unbuttons his shirt, exposes the smooth, unscathed skin of his chest. He sucks bruises, pulling the blood up to the surface in deep purples on the dark expanse of his flesh that has Levi arching off the sofa with Erwin’s name dangling from his lips.

He slips Levi’s pants off, working together to shimmy them down his hips and out of the way. His cock is hard, curving toward his abdomen and dripping enough pre-come that Erwin’s mouth waters. He gives it a cursory pump, wishing he had some kind of lubricant with him before pushing back the foreskin and mouthing wetly at the sensitive head.

Levi loses it and Erwin can’t deny the pride that swells in chest, warring with affection. “Fuck, oh fuck, Erwin, holy _shit_.” He swears, jerks sharply, writhing as he brings his arm up to cover his mouth.

Erwin laughs lightly, pulling off to grin up at him. “Good?” He asks, taking the tip between his lips and darting his tongue lightly against his slit.

Levi whines high in his throat, shuddering so violently Erwin needs to pin his hips down with his forearm so he doesn’t gag. The action just seems to spur Levi on further, moans becoming louder even as he works to still his hips after that. He takes more of his length farther in his mouth, tracing a throbbing vein with his tongue. Levi’s cock hits the back of his throat and he swallows around him, working more of him down his throat, breathing deeply through his nose. Levi thrashes at the sensation, fist hitting the couch weakly.

“Erwin,” he cries, broken, chest heaving. He stretches a hand down to grip Erwin’s fingers. He squeezes his hand, interlocking their fingers together so tightly it’s nearly painful.

Levi voice gets lost in his throat when he approaches his orgasm, half-formed whimpers caught in the midst of desperate gasps for air. Erwin sucks him steadily, bobbing his head, tongue circling the tip, pulling off occasionally to mouth wetly down the sides and drawing the loveliest sounds out of him. When he comes, his body jerks, a high pitched moan tearing through his throat like the sensation takes him by surprise and Erwin swallows every single drop.

He stares up at Levi, chest heaving, lips slick and swollen. He moves back up over him, watches his flushed face and pulls his arm away from his mouth, thumbing at the red bite marks he finds. Levi watches him with wide, awe-struck eyes and Erwin can't help but smile.

*

Later, Levi sprawls across his chest, a self-indulgent cat without a care in the world, but Erwin doesn’t mind; not when Levi’s weight is so comforting between his legs. He runs his hand up and down the length of his back, following the hard planes of muscle, the delicate curve of his spine almost reverently.

“How did you manage it?” He asks the ceiling. Levi shifts against him.

“I thought you would've figured it out by now, idiot.” Levi says, folding his arms on Erwin’s chest to rest his chin on them, mirroring the way Erwin used to watch him when he was a teenager. Erwin smiles, blue eyes meeting grey. Though his expression is relatively bland, Erwin registers the soft crinkling at the corner of Levi’s eyes, soft and affectionate.

Erwin has an idea, but he waits for Levi to speak.

“Monsters are only as real as you make them,” he says eventually, head tipping sideways. “I know it sounds really fucking stupid, but it makes sense. Most kids— _normal_ kids,” he stresses, a faraway look in his eyes, “stop believing in us when they’re still young. Reality or whatever sets in and we lose our power. We disappear—go to another child. That’s just the natural order of things.”

Erwin tilts his head back to stare ceiling so he doesn’t have to see Levi’s expression. “Eren’s different.” He says.

Levi stiffens. “Nothing about that boy is natural.” He says bluntly. “He’s seen some shit, Erwin, some really fucked up shit.”

Erwin’s silent, absently stroking Levi’s back while he mulls that over. “I could have kept you.”

Levi stretches up to kiss the underside of his chin. “You could have.” He whispers. “But I probably wouldn’t have been this real. You were a creepy kid; Eren on the other hand? Eren’s a product of his environment. The only reason you can touch me right now is  _because_  he’s clinging so tightly.”

Erwin exhales sharply, wraps his arms tightly around Levi’s small form and crushes him to his chest.  He presses his lips to his head in a reverent kiss.

“I’d like you to stay.” Erwin says softly, voice significantly stronger than he feels, but his expression betrays his vulnerability—the slight widening of his eyes, the upward quirk of his eyebrows.

He feels Levi sigh against him. “You know I can’t—I don’t want to ask, but if you still give a fuck if— _when_ Eren lets go—”

“Of course,” Erwin promises, seals it with a firm kiss to his brow. “Of course I’ll wait.”

* * *

Erwin blinks up at Levi when he shakes him awake at the crack of dawn.

“I have to go—Eren’s going to wake up soon.”

“What?” Erwin asks groggily, raising himself up on his elbows. He rubs his eye. “How do you know that?”

“We’re Bound.” Levi says. “I don’t know how it works—I just do. It’s the same with every kid.”

Levi cuts him off as Erwin opens his mouth to ask the question. “I knew where you were, too.” He says, pushing him back down gently. He tugs the sheets up around him. “You never let go of me properly, I always know where you are. You were never alone, Erwin.”

“Oh,” he says, drifting off again. He settles back under sleep-warm covers, stretching his legs. Distantly, Erwin's aware of the ache in his muscles, the soreness inside him. Cool lips press lightly against his forehead. “Alright. Come back soon?”

“Go back to sleep.” Levi murmurs. 

Erwin mumbles something in response, eyes open just enough to catch Levi phasing out of existence.

* * *

It’s five years until he sees Levi again.

A small part of him is still convinced that he dreamt the entire thing up, that it’s not real, how can something so illogical be real? Of course, on those days, Hange in all her eccentric, inhuman glory is there to knock the sense back into him.

It’s late when it happens—he has papers and study notes all across his desk, kitchen table and bleeding onto the floor. He’s running himself into the ground because he has an exam coming up and he while he hates finals with a fiery passion, there’s a dull sense of certainty thrumming through him. Even though he wants to tear his hair out by the root, he’s at peace here.

Either that or he needs more coffee.

“God, you’re one of those people who thrive under stress, aren’t you?” A voice cuts through his musing.

Erwin jumps at the sound, but as soon as he recognizes the low tenor of Levi’s voice, he’s up and off the floor in an instant, a smile stretched wide across his face. Behind him, Levi’s sprawled out on the sofa, legs crossed at the knees, one arm slung over the back of the couch while a tray carrying two cups of what Erwin desperately hopes is coffee rests on the cushion beside him. His expression, usually so impassive, is fissured by a small smile, just an upward quirk of the right corner of his mouth that Erwin missed so, so much.

“You came back,” he says, striding over to him. He goes in for a hug, but Levi thrusts a one of the cups in his hand and leads him back to his notes.

“I told you I would.” Levi says, sitting cross legged in front of him. “I’m surprised you actually waited—thought you would’ve been married or something by now and have some brats I could torment. That’s legal here, isn’t it?”

Erwin takes a sip of his drink—black coffee, straight. He loves Levi, he really does. “It wasn’t difficult. Law school saps any free time you have, it’s awful. Are you staying?” He says, deliriously happy.

Levi looks down at Erwin’s notes, takes in the chicken scratch handwritten notes along the margins and looks up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m staying, if you’ll have me.” He says a little hesitantly.

Erwin shakes his head. “You know I will.” He says softly, leans forward and catches Levi’s lips in a quick kiss. “How’s Eren? Did he let go?”

Levi’s expression turns stony in an instant. “No.” And says nothing more.

Erwin frowns, drums his fingers against his cup. “I see.” He says.

Levi picks up the section of notes he was looking at, reading them with furrowed brows.

Then he starts quizzing him.

“I was on a coffee break,” Erwin breaks in, content with just staring at Levi and his bright grey eyes for a few moments before he gets back to work. He’s here, he’s staying. Erwin feels lighter than air.

Or, he does until Levi gives him a look like he’s questioning his intelligence. “You have an exam in two days. You shouldn’t even be up this late; you’re fucking up your sleep cycle.”

Erwin shrugs. “That’s Hange’s fault.” He says. Erwin moves so he can lie down with his head lodged in the space between Levi’s thigh and hipbone. It’s uncomfortable, his bones are sharp and digging into his skull, but he can’t really bring himself to move. Levi continues testing him, pleased when Erwin has an answer for most of them. Erwin stares up at the projection of Levi’s shadow on the wall, still and only moving in tandem with Levi’s motions.

They fall asleep on the couch, Erwin too exhausted to drag himself to the bed and Levi refusing to let him sleep on the floor. He only gets a couple hours before the early morning sun paints his eyelids red and pulls him out of sleep. Erwin looks down to where Levi’s head is pillowed against his chest, the arm slung over and warmer than usual from Erwin’s body heat. Erwin watches the sun peer over the skyline from his apartment, watches the shadows grow shorter and shorter.

Something pokes at his chest. He glances down, smiling when he is met with Levi’s sleepy expression, open and intimate. There’s a pale imprint of Erwin's button down etched on his cheek that’s positively endearing.

“What are you grinning at?” Levi asks, voice rough with sleep.

 _Something_ , he thinks.  _Because you’re real and here._

“Nothing.” Erwin says, kisses his forehead, solid beneath his lips. “Nothing at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> jade's writing up an ereri companion piece for this 'verse that takes place during the time skip. it'll get done eventually :D
> 
> also, i'm on [tumblr](http://fractalbright.tumblr.com/) if you're interested~

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Hunger](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228149) by [Misaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misaya/pseuds/Misaya)




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